


I am smart

by LetMeEntertainYou



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Autism, Autistic!John, Gen, low verbal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 14:14:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19297402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetMeEntertainYou/pseuds/LetMeEntertainYou
Summary: People said he was talking like a baby on purpose. That he knew better.And to be fair, he did know better. John could form sentences that many would deem “normal” enough but it hurt. It was mentally and physically taxing having to formulate the right syntax and words. Even then, he wasn’t very good at it. He never was.





	I am smart

**Author's Note:**

> My blog is Disabled-Queen-HC on tumblr.  
> Anon asked: Autistic John who isn't very verbal? He speaks with very few words. People think he is speaking like a baby but it's just how he talks. He can communicate ideas perfectly but people make fun of him still ...

Freddie sighed, finger running over the stanza he was struggling with. “This won’t do. It’ll be too cluttered, don’t you think? But I like this bass line,” he said with a frown, scanning the sheet music for an idea of how to fix the song that was becoming more messier and headache inducing by the minute. 

John stooped behind Freddie to take a look at what he was struggling with. The answer seemed to come easy to him since he smiled, pointing as he talked. “Is okay, Freddie. Guitar and bass too much here. Move bass line here,” he pointed further down the sheet, “And it maybe sound better.” he finished with a firm nod. 

Freddie’s eyebrows furrowed trying to imagine in his head what it’d sound like. He tapped his chin, mumbling, “That could work…”

Roger, who sat opposite to Freddie shook his head. “Wait, if your bass line gets simpler there, I’ll have to change my drumline too or I’ll sound insane,” he said, pointing vaguely to the area in question. 

“Roger change his eighths to fourths and he not sound crazy then,” John said, once again all too easily. 

The three of them stared at the papers, constructing the sounds in their heads before they all gave the affirmative. It’d work. They could tweak it in the recording booth if needed. 

“Sounds alright to me! Now where’s Brian? He needs to look this over,” Roger said, spinning in his chair to find the guitarist. 

Brian was by the door, putting on his coat and scarf. “I’m going out to get some coffee that doesn’t taste like shit. You all want anything?” he asked, glancing at that infernal coffee maker. If they wanted to bang this song out at once, they’d need some proper caffienation that didn’t taste like liquid tar. 

“Oh, yes. Get me a dark roast, please!” Roger called out.

“I’m good, love,” Freddie said, distracted with rewrites.

“John can have espresso instead?” John asked, his eye bags a testament to how much caffeine he needed to get through this session.

Brian shot them all finger guns before escaping outside into the bitter cold. John plopped himself down next to Freddie, yawning loudly. 

As Freddie scribbled, he mumbled, “This is actually quite brilliant, Deacy.”

John gave him a sleepy smile, mumbling back, “I am smart.”

♚

“Looks like someone had a fun time at the discotheque last night,” Roger said in a sing song voice poking the exhausted bassist’s side. John squeaked but continued to fiddle with his bass on the floor.

“I did. Dance til ‘4,” John said, his lips forming a small smile. He liked to dance, what could he say? Maybe he wasn’t the best around, but it was fun and no one bothered him. Very few things could beat that.

Roger smirked as he tightened some screws on his drum kit. “Mhm.  _Danced_. Alright. I know you were chatting up some birds. Getting a little too knackered, huh? I know you, Deacy. Not so innocent!” Roger said, pointing a playful finger at him.

John blushed, nearly popping on of his strings, having forgot he was even tuning it. “Did not! Not go to disco to talk. Go for dance only.” he said, his face serious. It softened, going coy when he added, “Go for drink too…”

Not last night though. He had to choose between being tired or tired  **and** hungover. He had one beer before cutting himself off. With how Roger was tuning his drums, he thanked god he did. 

Roger winked and snorted, saying in a clearly sarcastic voice, “Sure thing, John.”

John threw his pick square into Roger’s forehead, earning himself a feigned look of shock from the blond. “John not go to disco to flirt!” he yelled, knowing Roger was kidding but refusing to miss an opportunity to pelt him with things.

Roger hid behind his bass drum, peeking his head out to say, “ _Sure_ ,” before hiding behind it again. John threw his string pack at him, missing.

“Am not cheeky like Roger!”

“ _Mhm_ …”

“Am not!”

“ _Uh-huh_.”

John was about to take off his shoe when Freddie caught the both of them  _not_ warming up. 

♚

John clung to Freddie’s side, looking down at his lap. 

_If I don’t look at them, they won’t ask me any questions. If I don’t look, they’ll leave me alone._

“So what are the plans for this upcoming album?” the interviewer asked, leaning the microphone towards Freddie.

Freddie shook some hair out of his face, smiling as he spoke, “Well, we don’t want to spoil anything but we are going big. It’ll be like nothing we’ve done before and certainly nothing you’ve ever heard,”

The man nodded, shooting out another question. “And the creative process? How’s it been like?”

John’s stomach dropped when the mic landed right in front of his mouth. His eyes went wide, immediately looking to the older besides him in a panic.

Brian laughed, trying to diffuse the awkwardness that was rising and tried to answer the question in place of John. The interviewer interrupted him though, saying, “Why don’t we let John speak. He hasn’t said a peep!”

John’s brain went blank, his heart thundering in his chest.

This was always the worst part.

John had no issues speaking around the boys. They understood. They never made fun of him. 

The rest of the world never gave him that dignity. 

People said he was talking like a baby on purpose. That he knew better.

And to be fair, he did know better. John could form sentences that many would deem “normal” enough but it hurt. It was mentally and physically taxing having to formulate the right syntax and words. Even then, he wasn’t very good at it. He never was.

Which is why he chose to stay quiet during interviews. He didn’t want to embarrass himself and more importantly, the band. Up until, perhaps, just now, he was seen as just the quiet and shy one. Not the stupid one. 

When he opened his mouth though, he wasn’t sure if he’d stay the cute quiet one for much longer.

“C- Uh, T-The process..have..been..has been um..very-” John went ghostly pale as he stammered, his color only coming back when Roger let out a gigantic guffaw.

“John, how hung over are you?” he asked, his teeth showing in a big grin. While his lips said teasing, his eyes said something different. Something along the lines of, “I’ve got you.”

John let out a sigh of relief, murmuring back to Roger, “ _Very_.”

The interviewer chuckled, patting John’s shoulder. “To be young again!” he said, swiftly moving on to another question and another member. 

Once it wrapped up, John nearly flopped onto the floor. He  _never_ wanted that to happen again. He knew it would though. Interviewers wanted to be polite and include him. It was understandable but terrifying. But at least he survived this round relatively unscathed. That was all he could ask for.

As everyone dispersed, decompressing from all that talking, John walked up to Brian, who was guzzling down water because he  _was_ actually hungover and said, “Thank you Bri for try and help.” Brian gave him a side hug and a wave off.  _It’s no big deal_ , he mouthed as he rubbed his temple.

John went up to Roger next, giving him a bear hug, something a little out of character for him. “Thank you Roger for help me. I maybe pass out if you don’t,” he said, a shake in his voice as he remembered the gripping fear he felt some minutes ago. 

Roger hugged back gently at first, perhaps shaken up himself by the situation but he quickly returned to his usual self, giving John a squeeze and pulling away. “The nerve of that guy, huh? A man can’t have the wine flu in peace these days?” Roger laughed as he spoke. It got a giggle out of John, saying, “John guess not,”

The two snickered amongst themselves until Freddie rounded them up to get back in the van.

“I say this is grounds for some pizza, darlings!” Freddie said with a flamboyant clap, turning around to march out the door of the building.

“Pizza not in budget,” John said meekly.

Freddie turned back to face them, winking. “It’s on me,” he said as he held up a wallet.

Roger squinted before screaming, “That’s  ** _my_** wallet, you bugger!”

“John wants the works pizza then.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Vegetarian pizza sounds nice right about now.”

“I buy Bri veggie pizza.”

“Not with  _my_ money, you gits!”

“Two veggie pizza.”

“Aw, that’s so considerate of you, Deacy.”

“ **Is no one listening to me?** ”

“John is not.”


End file.
